Where the water receeded from the shore, the ground was a gray mush, as though a storm cloud had fallen to earth and taken nest amongst the landwalkers, instead of hanging out with those blessed with flight. Kassandra thought if she had ever met a storm cloud they would be rather haughty, and carry with them the same kind of troublesome, hectic energy that came along with the sea simply vanishing from the world. Dark brown hillocks of rock, porous and smelling heavily of salt and silt, rose like terrible shadows out of the gloom, their crowns drinking greedily of air they may not feel under normal conditions.
A gentle lip of foam brushed gently against her hocks as the saturated sand sucked at her hooves as she snorted from the acrid air invading her nostrils, somehow dry and yet suffocatingly wet at the same time. Far up the shore, Oculos continued to pace his frenzied line in the sand, tongue held tight to anxiously taught lips, massive, curved canines flashing white. Kassandra, watching her companion with curious, perpetually startled eyes, thought his teeth reminded her of stars. She cast her gaze skyward and wondered if those celestial, blinking lights, which tormented her so, had any terrible words of wisdom in store for her.
But the heavens had been silent ever since the vision in the desert, the one that reminded her of her heinous curse— the one that reminded her of her place, as a tool, a slave to the astral plane, and brought fresh to light the perpetual nature of her curse. As was their usual, when they could have been the most helpful, their tongues were stone in their invisible mouths.
A voice, haunting and strange in it’s solid presence— for what walked where even the sea had abandoned but the ghosts, and the imminently ghostly?— and stirred her from her celestial concerns. Her shimmering, silver eyes ducked nervously, not yet used to real, actual social interaction with individuals not ordered to take care of her in her ivory tower, and cleared her throat. She tried to speak and found her voice a ghost; there was no point in yelling, and she had a feeling her shouting voice would shatter some fragile, invisible peace. She trotted her way closer to the golden stranger, struck a bit by his handsome countenance, and ducked her head. “It’s more of what I’m not finding, to be honest,” she said, quiet and shy. She looked from him to the strange, horned equine, deep as the lovely night and scattered with serpentine stars.
When she laid eyes on Isra, a strange feeling trembled through her, as though… she was missing something. She seemed to zone out for a few moments before she realized she had raised her head and was staring. Kassandra shook herself out of her bizarre stupor— hoping desperately that she wouldn’t be taken by a prophetic fit, and scare away these new equines-- and asked, in all earnestly, "Does this happen often?"
words 503
tags @Acton @Isra
A gentle lip of foam brushed gently against her hocks as the saturated sand sucked at her hooves as she snorted from the acrid air invading her nostrils, somehow dry and yet suffocatingly wet at the same time. Far up the shore, Oculos continued to pace his frenzied line in the sand, tongue held tight to anxiously taught lips, massive, curved canines flashing white. Kassandra, watching her companion with curious, perpetually startled eyes, thought his teeth reminded her of stars. She cast her gaze skyward and wondered if those celestial, blinking lights, which tormented her so, had any terrible words of wisdom in store for her.
But the heavens had been silent ever since the vision in the desert, the one that reminded her of her heinous curse— the one that reminded her of her place, as a tool, a slave to the astral plane, and brought fresh to light the perpetual nature of her curse. As was their usual, when they could have been the most helpful, their tongues were stone in their invisible mouths.
A voice, haunting and strange in it’s solid presence— for what walked where even the sea had abandoned but the ghosts, and the imminently ghostly?— and stirred her from her celestial concerns. Her shimmering, silver eyes ducked nervously, not yet used to real, actual social interaction with individuals not ordered to take care of her in her ivory tower, and cleared her throat. She tried to speak and found her voice a ghost; there was no point in yelling, and she had a feeling her shouting voice would shatter some fragile, invisible peace. She trotted her way closer to the golden stranger, struck a bit by his handsome countenance, and ducked her head. “It’s more of what I’m not finding, to be honest,” she said, quiet and shy. She looked from him to the strange, horned equine, deep as the lovely night and scattered with serpentine stars.
When she laid eyes on Isra, a strange feeling trembled through her, as though… she was missing something. She seemed to zone out for a few moments before she realized she had raised her head and was staring. Kassandra shook herself out of her bizarre stupor— hoping desperately that she wouldn’t be taken by a prophetic fit, and scare away these new equines-- and asked, in all earnestly, "Does this happen often?"
words 503
tags @Acton @Isra
kassandra,
